


Bad Influence

by plastic_cello



Category: Captain America (Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - High School, Boarding School AU, Bucky is a bad influence, Disapproving Odin, Disapproving Thor, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-07-23
Updated: 2013-09-15
Packaged: 2017-12-21 02:52:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,669
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/894933
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/plastic_cello/pseuds/plastic_cello
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Loki Odinson wasn't stupid, after all. He didn't delve into nefarious activities; he didn't drink or do drugs or stay up beyond an acceptable hour. More importantly than even that, Loki did not share his bed with anyone. Even if the temptation was there, and god only knew this Barnes might be trouble in the terms of his self-control. But he had an iron will and wasn't about to bend so easily; regardless of the attraction he unfortunately felt.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue :: The Boy Named Barnes

**Author's Note:**

> I was given this lovely prompt in my inbox on Tumblr, and I really liked it; so I expanded on it and hopefully it won't be too disappointing. And thank you to the wonderful person who dropped by and shared the idea with me; I had a lot of fun brainstorming over it!

* * *

 

**Prologue :: The Boy Named Barnes**

 

* * *

 

The hallowed halls of the school's library normally served as a sanctuary for Loki. But today was different; people clustered around the large ceiling to floor windows at the end of the room, and whispered excitedly to one another about the commotion outside. From the bits and pieces that Loki caught (beyond his control really) was that a new student, a delinquent of some sort, had been enrolled into the school; and his many infractions of the law were openly being discussed.

Some said the new boy had vandalized one of the historic churches in the area; while others boasted that he had set fire to his own house just to see it burn. Fewer had the gall to suggest that he had killed another boy in a fit of fury; but the jury had acquitted him for insufficient evidence, so he was sent to their school as minimal punishment for his crime.

Imaginations ran rampant; rumors flew back and forth, until the library was filled with excitable and loud voices. Which made it almost impossible to think, let alone study for the history exam that was to take place the day after tomorrow; Loki shifted his eyes from his textbook to glower at his fellow students, whom were pointing across the yard in hopes of locating the boy that was on everyone's lips.

Gossip had never truly interested Loki, though. He never had a desire to speculate on other people's personal lives; especially the boys he had been stuck with for the past four years. He most certainly didn't care to know anything about a new boy with a criminal record either.

The only thing that was of any concern to him, was maintaining his perfect grade point average; otherwise, everything else was an unwelcome distraction. The late night parties between dormitories; the hidden stashes of booze underneath his roommate's bed, and the impromptu visit to a nearby public school filled with a cluster of awaiting teenage girls, really didn't hold any appeal to him whatsoever.

Shutting his textbook in annoyance, Loki noticed his roommate Clint in the middle of the madness. Clint slapped his hand against the glass with a hoot that sounded far more animal than human; although Loki had been subjected to many unsavory sounds from Clint over the past two years of their sharing a dormitory.

"That's the kid, that's got to be the kid!" Clint yelled in excitement; followed by a rambunctious chorus of agreement. "It looks like they just picked him up from the pen too!"

That was enough of an initiative to drive Loki away from his study spot, and towards the double doors that ran into the long winding hallway that led to the mess hall, various classrooms, rec rooms, and various other amenities that the school had to offer. He hurried into hallway, followed by the many hollers and expletives that his fellow classmates were spewing in honor of the new student's arrival.

Midway to the grand stairwell that led to the dormitories on the second and third floors, and far enough away from the library, Loki crossed paths with the dean of boys, Dr. Nicholas Fury and his assistant Phillip Coulson; who were in the midst of explaining the history of the school to a rugged looking kid in between them. He was wearing a pair of worn blue jeans with oil stains on the knees, and a matching denim jacket that was equally unkempt; which only seemed to suggest that this was the new kid everyone was so enamored with.

Loki stepped aside from his position in the center of the hallway, to allow the trio to pass by. Dr. Fury and Mr. Coulson paused in their narrative to greet him, although Loki hardly heard them. His attention was drawn back to the new student; whom looked to be on the verge of adulthood, as opposed to some of his current classmates that still looked far too young for their own good.

The boy's mouth twitched in a small smile, somewhat predatorily even; which sent a spark of something through Loki's body at an alarming rate. That something, a something he had chosen to ignore since he was eleven years old; settled heavily into the pit of his stomach, and made him swallow the forming lump in his throat.

"Barnes, this is Loki Odinson; he's our most accomplished student at the academy." Dr. Fury explained. "You would do well to follow his example."

"Don't mind if I do, sir." The boy named Barnes said, before brushing past Loki in a way that shouldn't have lit his whole body on fire.

Before he could potentially make a fool of himself, Dr. Fury and Mr. Coulson led Barnes away; no doubt to the dean's office to smooth over the details of his enrollment, a process that Loki remembered well enough. He watched them go, studying the carefree gait that Barnes moved with and the way his clothes sagged off his body sloppily but by no means unappealingly.

Loki sucked in a heavy breath and laughed in spite of himself. He was being silly, which had happened several times previously in his life. But he always managed to push away unsavory thoughts by sheer willpower, and this would be no different.

Loki Odinson wasn't stupid, after all. He didn't delve into nefarious activities; he didn't drink or do drugs or stay up beyond an acceptable hour. More importantly than even that, Loki did not share his bed with anyone. Even if the temptation was there, and god only knew this Barnes might be trouble in the terms of his self-control. But he had an iron will and wasn't about to bend so easily; regardless of the attraction he unfortunately felt.


	2. Chapter One :: His Name's Bucky

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know if this is any good or not, but hey I tried. ;(

* * *

 

**Chapter One :: His Name's Bucky**

 

* * *

 

"His name's Bucky." Clint Barton yawned, as he sleepily tied up his navy blue and silver tie. "He lives on the third floor, and the lucky bastard doesn't have to share his room with anyone either."

Loki didn't readily respond; he had done well on blocking his previous encounter with the new boy for days now. What's more, he hadn't had to see him at all either; they didn't appear to share any classes, and the mess hall was so mammoth that it was easy to be in the same room without seeing one another. Of course, whatever game his body had been playing was only a distant memory now anyway.

"I have him in my art history class." Clint continued in between yawns. "The guy's pragmatic, you know; probably a real pussy hound too."

"Then you two will get along swimmingly." Loki flinched, as he peered at his reflection in the full length mirror positioned at the back of their dormitory's door.

"In other words, you'd hate him." Clint chuckled in a way that always irked Loki.

While they had been roommates for over two years, Loki could hardly say he was fond of Clint or vice-versa. They tolerated one another to the best of their ability; oftentimes not too well either. There had been many colorful arguments in between them, about the abuse of the space they shared; particularly when Clint snuck in unwelcome guests to spend the night with him.

Several times, Loki had woken up to unsavory mews of pleasure; which had incensed him beyond belief. He hardly cared if Clint brought girls to their room, but he had only hoped he would do so whenever he returned to his family home on long weekends. Or at least when he was in the library studying.

"No one had the balls to ask him what he'd done yet." Clint proceeded, after a series of even more prolonged yawns. "I still think he burned down his own house. But Victor's convinced he was the one behind all those car thefts in town a few months back."

"Victor is an idiot." Loki grumbled under his breath, before he whirled around to retrieve his leather satchel; which had been a birthday present from his parents.

Once he had it in his possession, he started for the door with Clint on his heels; who looked as if he had barely rolled out of bed moments beforehand, which wasn't that far from the truth. Unfortunately, it had become Loki's responsibility to wake up his roommate; since he was an early riser and because Clint had a knack for sleeping through his morning classes if given the chance.

They proceeded out into the hallway that was bustling with activity. Most of the boys who emerged from their dormitories were as unkempt as Clint was. Their white button-ups were wrinkled and their ties askew; while their blazers were equally rumpled, as if they had simply tossed them to the floor after school hours.

Loki, on the other hand, took pride in his appearance; regularly washing and ironing his school uniform to pristine condition. His dark hair while longer than many; was slicked back, styled, and clean. Which couldn't be said about many of his fellow students; who regularly stayed up until all odd hours of the night, doing whatever teenage boys did at three in the morning, and Loki wasn't about to inquiry over it either.

"Why don't they serve coffee in the mess hall?" Clint complained as they made their way through the zombie of teenage boys. "Or why can't they install a cola machine somewhere? I hate this drafty castle bullshit."

"Maybe if you went to bed at a decent hour, you wouldn't have a problem."

"Not everyone can be a model student and overall bitchy human being like you, Loki."

"Just because I don't participate in your unhealthy tendencies doesn't make me, as you put it, bitchy." Loki glowered at nothing in particular, as they passed the communal bathroom; that was brimming with boys in various stages of undressed.

One boy darted out in absolutely nothing but a pair of running shoes; cupping his groin modestly as he screamed at whomever decided to steal both his clothes and towel. Neither Clint nor Loki baited an eye, seeing as stunts like that were fairly common. Of course, it had been a daunting sight four years earlier for someone like Loki, but if anything he was adaptable.

Modesty had always been an instilled characteristic of Loki's. Despite having two older brothers, whom frequently neglected proper decorum and oftentimes were loud, rambunctious, and barbaric; he had always been the exact opposite. So it had been a challenge to adapt to boys in greater numbers, whom hadn't any problem with nudity or vulgarity.

It still proved to test his patience even now; although he wasn't that quick to react to it anymore. He chose instead to simply ignore it as best as he could, and it had worked well for him so far. Except when he was tested by his own internal temptations, when it had dealt with choice boys whom had unconsciously drew his attention.

There had been very few in that regard, and his self-control was impenetrable for the most part. But he also knew he was only human, which led to very human moments of weakness. Ones that caused him to stare too long or for his body to heat up, and send him directly into an icy cold shower; instead of manipulating those physical wants that felt so natural in comparison.

Loki and Clint eventually made their way out of the hallway; they turned a corner and into the dreary morning light that spilled from the cathedral-like windows that were built into every nook and cranny of the old school. Within moments they came to the top of the grand stairwell that led onto the ground floor and to the mess hall, and their first period class which they shared.

"You know, I'm going to find out what Bucky's done." Clint suddenly announced, as they descended the large steps one by one. "I'll be the first, and I bet you anything he burnt down his own house."

"Why does his delinquent behavior matter so much to you?" Loki asked.

"It doesn't matter to me, but Jesus Christ this place can get boring. Not all of us love the library as much as you do. Or sitting around studying until our eyes practically fall out; at least Bucky's livening this place up some."

"How do you even know that? I doubt you've even spoken to him. And I can only imagine all of you have blown his illegal misdeed out of proportion." He rolled his eyes skyward. "If anything, he probably was guilty of truancy at his former school. Therefore, his family sent him here in order to keep him on the straight and narrow."

Clint shot him an annoyed look, which clearly stated he didn't want to hear anything that wasn't fantastical. Reality put a damper on the tale of a delinquent boy, whom had potentially burned down his house, stolen expensive sports cars for months on end, defaced churches, and killed other boys out of rage and got away with it scot-free.

"Can you not talk anymore?"

"Then stop trying to engage me in conversation."

"I'm not; I'm talking at you, until I can find someone more interesting to talk to." Clint snapped back meanly.

Loki would never outwardly admit it, but that statement stung. Of course, due to his rigidity, he didn't have any true friends to speak of. He had various acquaintances that he spoke to in class and sometimes in between classes. But he couldn't call any of them friends; he especially couldn't call Clint his friend either.

Rather than shooting back an unsavory comment to cover the hurt, Loki continued to the bottom of the stairwell and hurried his steps. He left Clint behind, determined to make it to the mess hall and pick up a piece of fruit; before he made his way to class. He had more than an hour at his disposal anyway, and well he hadn't any desire to sit by and watch his fellow students socialize.

Two large wooden doors stood open, presenting the mess hall and the many students who already sat down for breakfast. Several long tables lined the room and were only partially filled; due in part to the majority of boys having a similar mentality as Clint, when it came to early mornings.

Loki stepped across the threshold, and made a sharp left turn towards the kitchens; only to collide with someone who was about to exit back into the hallway. The force was enough to cause him to stagger backwards; he almost tripped over his own two feet, but was spared from the humiliation by a strong arm that looped around his waist.

"Wow, wow, watch it there."

"I'm sorry." Loki said in embarrassment, as he peered down at the boy who he collided with; which only worsened his mortification further.

The infamous Bucky Barnes beamed up at him; dressed in the standard school uniform, although his tie was skewed to the side and his shirt untucked. Stubble covered his face, while his hair was slicked back beside a stray hair or two that fell in front of one of his eyes. He was far more attractive than Loki originally believed him to be, when he initially saw him days ago.

He swallowed hard, unable to say or do anything. He was frozen to the spot, pressed snugly against the other boy (although man seemed like a more suitable term); and undoubtedly gawking like an invalid too.

"Be careful when you turn corners okay, Legs." Bucky smiled at him, before releasing his hold on him; although the warmth remained.

"I'm sorry." Loki repeated softly, almost on the verge of being breathless.

"Don't worry about it; I'll see you around, Legs." Bucky patted him on the shoulder in a friendly manner, as he sidestepped him with a peculiar sort of grace; and moved into the hallway.

Awkwardly, Loki spun around and watched him go. He walked with that same leisurely pace he had when they first saw one another; unhurried and casual, with his hands stuffed deep into his pockets. And for some unknown, impossible reason; Loki's heart threatened to pound out of his chest. Worse yet, he felt lightheaded and unstable on his own two feet.

He didn't know why, hell he didn't want to understand why either. But he knew Bucky Barnes was really bad news.


	3. Chapter Two :: Fear

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know if I like the progression of this story very much. But hopefully I'll get to the point where I'm convinced it'll turn out okay; anyway, I hope you enjoy. ;(

* * *

 

**Chapter Two :: Fear**

 

* * *

 

Laughter wafted across the school grounds, rambunctious, unfiltered, and infectious; Bucky Barnes was in the middle of a crowd of attentive boys, enthusiastically recounting some story or another that had the group in stitches. Loki wasn't close enough to hear the story, but he was close enough to observe without being spotted.

His presence wouldn't be welcomed anyway; Clint had made it known more frequently than not, and he wasn't about to embarrass himself by attempting to integrate himself into the group. Regardless of the fact, he felt oddly drawn to Bucky for some reason; even though he had only properly met him two times previously.

He and Bucky hadn't any classes with one another; nor did they live on the same level in the dormitories. The only time he really saw him was in the mess hall during mealtimes, but even then they weren't in close vicinity with one another. Bucky had been adopted by Clint and his band of friends, which meant there wasn't any way to parlay his way into his company even if he was so bold to attempt to.

That wasn't the case, though; especially when he considered why he wanted to be close to Bucky. Something that Loki had feebly tried to suppress, ever since he realized his sexuality veered towards the uncommon. He had known from a very early age that he was gay; it hadn't been any internal struggle to come to that conclusion. But he had chosen to hide it from his family and not act on his impulses either.

He had a very real fear of being disowned, if his father were ever to find out about his sexuality. And really the heartache of being openly gay in an all-boys school wasn't worth it either. So he had simply chosen not to entertain any thoughts of physicality or romance between him and anybody else. That is until he laid eyes on Bucky; who had unwittingly taken up residence in his mind.

Thankfully, his thoughts had remained fairly clean. He hadn't had any unsavory dreams about Bucky; although he had had some colorful thoughts of kissing him to the point of breathlessness more than once. Except Loki knew that things were bound to evolve from there; it was only a natural progression, if he were to be honest and he had been utterly repressed for seventeen years.

He squirmed at the thought, suddenly keenly aware of how pathetic he must have looked. It hadn't been his intent to cross paths with Bucky; he had simply wanted some fresh air and had taken his collection of Chaucer's works to read outside. The dusty and dreary confines of the library hadn't suited his mood that afternoon, and well the sight of Bucky currently wasn't doing much for his mood either.

His book had remained untouched across his lap for close to an hour now. Even when he attempted to read a page, his attention was compromised by Bucky's wonderfully delightful laugh and the way he threw his head back midway through it. It was all very distracting and it was seriously making Loki's resolve waver.

It would have been for the best if he retreated; threw up all his defenses, and kept himself safe from the bits of humanity that threatened to overwhelm him. No less save himself from the potential embarrassment that would come about, if he ever were to slip and allow his feelings to show. Worse yet, he could be harmed in some way if Bucky took offense to his affections.

That should have deterred his actions exponentially, and yet he remained rooted to the spot; sitting in a patch of yellowing grass with his back to the stone of the school wall. His eyes flickered away from the group of boys for a split-second, and he tried futilely to pick up on his reading to no avail. Not when he heard another wave of laughter that sent a chill up his spine.

But he was determined to at least attempt to read a word or two, even if his eyes wandered away from the page to the clumps of dry grass surrounding him. At least, he managed to keep his head down and not snap to attention by Clint's voice howling obnoxiously in some sort of declaration. He really didn't care to know what his roommate had to say; not since their tiff almost two weeks beforehand. The same day he had clumsily collided into Bucky, who then had the audacity to call him _Legs_ of all things.

Being overly analytical as he was, Loki had spent much of his time dissecting that previous run-in; including the one beforehand, when he had first lain eyes on Bucky. It would have been so much easier to understand things had he had someone to confide in to. He hadn't any real trustworthy friends, though; and the only other people he was particularly close to happened to be his elder brothers. Neither of which, he would confide such feelings to even at gunpoint.

They wouldn't have understood anyway; even if he lied and mentioned it was about a girl, they would have been happy to mock him about his very first crush. Seeing as Thor and Baldur were both aware of his shrewd nature, and how he hadn't exactly been normal when it came to normal sexual urges. So he was very much alone in that respect.

It was a curse, but it was a blessing too. No one needed to become the wiser about his innermost thoughts, especially when his attraction for Bucky would inevitably die soon enough. It was bound to if he remained in Clint's company, who was becoming more and more insufferable of late to him. Although, Loki had to admit that was probably a side effect of their ongoing cold war.

But it would subside; he had a greater control of his body and mind than many his age. He could attest to that openly and would if needled to do so. And yet he knew it would be a terrible obstacle to overcome, simply because he hadn't felt that intensely interested in someone in some time, if ever.

The laughter persisted, as did the rumble of voices whose words were lost to him. Loki narrowed his eyes, determinedly studying the page in front of him; devouring a handful of words, before the crunch of grass underfoot drew closer to his seated position. He, however, refused to look up; he knew that the person responsible would walk past him anyway. So it really wasn't worth his time to glimpse up to see who it was.

Except the person grew nearer, until a pair of scuffed steel-toed boots presented themselves in his peripheral; the trouser legs were wrinkled and need of a good ironing, although very few boys actually owned an iron at the school. Clint never asked to use his either; contented to look unkempt and messy alongside the rest of the student body.

Knowing he couldn't disregard whoever approached, Loki peered up and almost choked on his own tongue. Bucky stood above him, hands casually crammed into his blazer's pockets, and with an unreadable but almost pleasant look on his face. His tie was askew as it always seemed to be, which made Loki's fingers twitch with the need to fix it; and maybe to even push away those strands of errant hair from falling into his eye like they always did.

"Loki, right," Bucky said in a friendly tone Loki wasn't exactly accustomed to of late.

Loki nodded in confirmation, suddenly struck by speechlessness. While he never was overly vocal while amongst his peers (at home he couldn't stop the witticisms from falling from his mouth like rain), he could at least come up with a word or two to say when he was spoken to.

"I'm pretty sure we were formally introduced by Fury. But it wouldn't hurt to reintroduce myself; I'm James but most people call me Bucky."

"James," he blurted out breathlessly and realized how stupid he must have sounded.

"Most people call me Bucky." Bucky reiterated with a sunny smile. "But I don't think you're like most people, Legs."

A maelstrom of emotions struck Loki from all sides. He knew he was blushing now; his whole body felt as if it was being consumed by an invisible fire. And he suspected that every hidden thought, every well buried desire had been exposed by his bodily reaction to Bucky's close proximity.

He felt like an open cluster of nerves, visible to the naked eye. Humiliation only worsened the flush that was known to travel up his neck to the very tip of his ears; which only made him react in a way that could be described as reckless, in a feeble attempt to find level ground again.

Without any warning, Loki closed his book with a harsh snap; before he scrambled onto his feet. His legs were uncommonly shaky, and he felt short of breath; but that didn't stop him from diverting to the right, where Bucky wasn't blocking his path.

"Hey," Bucky called out to him, even as he hurried towards the corner of the building. "Did I say something wrong?"

Words refused to leave Loki, though. Panic had all but fueled his actions, and he practically ran around the corner; lest Bucky decide to follow him for whatever reason. Maybe to confirm that he was stupidly blushing over such a brief exchange, so he could report it back to the likes of Clint and his boneheaded friends; which would only make the whole situation that much more unbearable and insufferable.

Bucky didn't follow him, thankfully. It, however, didn't stop him from hurrying his steps and barreling across the large expanse of field between him and the back entranceway that led to the dormitories. He didn't stop his mad rush, until he was within reaching distance of the doors; but even then, Loki moved faster than what was absolutely necessary once he stepped across the threshold, and back into the dusty and dreary interior of the school.

As he mounted the stairs, Loki chided himself for his stupidity; for leaving himself exposed by sitting there gawking for far too long. And if the situation couldn't get any more mortifying, he practically spelled out his unhealthy obsession for Bucky by blushing like some idiotic teenage girl.

He could already imagine Bucky telling Clint, who would make sure to make his life a living hell; more so than he already did with his unruly behavior and his disgusting need to copulate with his girl of the week in their dormitory, even when he was in the room trying to sleep.

The consequences of being exposed for what he was would be dire. He knew Clint didn't like him, but he suspected his sexuality would only stoke the loathing between them; and there was always potential for violence to unravel between them. And that only made Loki that much more terrified about his own stupidity, and fueled him to storm up the steps that led to his dormitory.

Fear chased after him; nipped at his heels and infected his mind. He couldn't outrun it either; the only way he'd get any relief would be once Clint came back to their room. Although, he suspected the worst and he inwardly cursed himself for the umpteenth time for allowing his resolve to weaken and draw him anywhere near Bucky Barnes.

He knew he was trouble and he had proven as much too.


End file.
